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Review: Franklin Barbecue. Austin, TX.

That’s right. BBQ Mecca. I went there and you’re jealous. We all know the drill.

After my original attempt to eat delicious BBQ was thwarted, I returned early the next morning (8:38AM to be exact) to wait in line for the 11AM opening. I was fourth in line (actually sixth when you consider spouses not seen in photo).

Hanging out wasn’t too bad. I sat and read GET JIRO!, drank some coffee (sorry about my hairy legs) and before you know it, the wife and daughter had shown up and the doors were open.

No Tom Petty, the waiting wasn’t hardest part.

The hardest part for me about eating here is writing a review. It’s recieved so much praise, I wasn’t sure that I had much more to contribute to the conversation. It’s amazing. Everyone knows it. What else is there to add?

But after stewing on it, soul searching, and consulting with my spirit-animal (it’s an alpaca in case you’re wondering), I decided that it was still worth getting my thoughts on the matter out there.

So here they are:

If you grew up in Texas like I did, everything about Franklin Barbecue will seem familiar. The building is like a million other barbecue joints in the state. The aroma of the smoldering post oak permeating from the smoker out back will remind you of another time when you had really good Texas barbecue. Like I said, it’s familiar.

At the same time (and this is the hard part to explain), it’s completely new. It’s fresh and it’s like nothing you’ve ever had because….. well…….. it’s perfect. Aaron Franklin puts on a clinic daily. And that clinic is about how to make flawless Texas barbecue. It has to been eaten to be believed. It’s the kind of meal that makes your eyes light up on first bite. The kind of meal in which you immediately know you’re eating something special, dare I say magical. It’s similar to barbecue you’ve had, just way (way way way…) better.

The brisket (especially the fatty) is pure magic. As are the ribs. Juicy, savory, fatty, perfect. That’s how I’d describe them. The sausage is different than what you’d expect, but every bit as good. The pulled pork was for my wife and tasted fine (didn’t want to waste too much room for it). The potato salad was standard tasting mustard based fare.

We actually didn’t eat all of this, but we did down most of it.

We also ordered Banana bourbon and pecan tarts, but we didn’t eat them until about an hour later. They were great, though I can’t remember who the vendor was.

As we drove off from Franklin in a complete state of protein-overload, we both had smiles on our faces. I propositioned my wife for some filthy BBQ sex and lucky for her she declined. Later I blamed the meat, it had put me in a state of euporia in which I thought anything would be possible.